𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐂 || BNHA

Chapter 6

As you stretch out beneath the vast, rain-kissed sky outside Izuku's home, the world feels cocooned in a tender hush. The cool drizzle brushes against your scales, its rhythmic patter a gentle lullaby that harmonizes with the soft rustling of leaves and the occasional distant rumble of thunder. You close your eyes, allowing yourself to sink into the serenity of the moment, the misty air wrapping around you like nature's comforting embrace. It's rare for you to enjoy a night like this, your thoughts untethered, your mind at ease—thankfully, Principal Nezu had understood your longing for this moment of simplicity.

The rain continues its song, cascading softly over your face, until another sound edges into its melody. Footsteps, quick and purposeful, splashing against the damp earth. Your ears twitch, your senses stirring as you open your eyes to see a familiar figure rushing toward you. Izuku. He's darting through the rain with his jacket held clumsily over his head, the fabric doing little to keep the downpour at bay.

A faint frown tugs at your lips as you lift your massive head, water droplets rolling off your scales. Your ruby eyes lock onto his, curiosity sparking as you take in his determined expression. "Izuku, dear," you begin, your voice smooth and measured, carrying an undertone of concern, "what on earth are you doing out here? You'll catch your death of cold running about like that."

Izuku skids to a stop in front of you, his cheeks flushed—not from the cold, but from sheer embarrassment. "Y/N!" he pants, blinking up at you with a sheepish grin. "I—I noticed you didn't have anything to cover yourself with. I thought you might get uncomfortable out here in the rain."

You tilt your head, a bemused smile creeping across your face. "Uncomfortable?" you repeat, your tone teasing. "Izuku, darling, I'm far more suited to weathering a little rain than you are. Look at you—soaked to the bone already."

Izuku chuckles nervously, brushing his damp bangs out of his eyes. "I guess I didn't think that through," he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. "But I just didn't want you to feel... forgotten, you know?" His words come out soft but earnest, laced with the kind of selfless sincerity that defines him.

For a moment, you say nothing, simply gazing at him with a mixture of amusement and affection. The rain glistens on his freckled face, and his shivering form seems so small against your towering presence. Finally, with a soft sigh, you lower your head, your voice gentling. "You truly are too kind, Izuku. Always thinking of others, even when you have no reason to worry."

You stretch your tail out toward him, nudging his side gently. "Come now," you say with a faint smile, "let's get you out of the rain before you freeze to death. I might enjoy the weather, but you, my dear, are not built for it."

Izuku hesitates, glancing toward his house, then back at you. "What about you?" he asks, his green eyes wide with concern.

You huff softly, amused. "I'll be fine. You forget, I'm a creature of endurance, not fragility like you little humans." Your tone is playful, but there's an undeniable warmth beneath your teasing.

Reluctantly, Izuku nods, but before he leaves, he drapes his soggy jacket over your massive claw. "Just in case," he says, a lopsided grin brightening his face even as rain continues to pour. Without waiting for your response, he dashes back toward the house, leaving you blinking after him.

You shake your head, a low chuckle rumbling from your throat. "Humans," you murmur to yourself, though your gaze softens as you peer at the small jacket now adorning your claw. It's absurd, really—his gesture entirely unnecessary. But still, there's something about it that warms you far more than the rain ever could.

With a gentle nudge of your tail, you guide Izuku back toward the warm glow of his home, rain dripping from his wild green hair as his small frame hunches slightly from the chill. He stumbles at first, his soaked shoes slipping against the wet ground, but your steady presence gives him balance. It's a quiet walk, save for the patter of rain and the occasional rumble of thunder, the air charged with unspoken gratitude.

When you both reach the doorstep, Inko opens the door before you even knock. Her face is etched with worry, the light spilling out behind her painting her in a golden hue. "Izuku!" she exclaims, rushing forward to grab her son by the shoulders. She ushers him inside with a mixture of relief and maternal frustration. "What were you thinking? Out in the rain like that? You'll catch a cold!"

Izuku ducks his head, his cheeks flushed as he murmurs a sheepish, "Sorry, Mom..." His voice is soft, barely audible over her fussing as she pulls a towel from nowhere and wraps it around his drenched form.

You watch the scene unfold from the doorway, your towering form carefully framed so as not to block too much of the light. The faintest flicker of amusement curls through you, but more than that, you feel a deep respect for the woman before you. Inko's love for her son is palpable, a force as unwavering as gravity itself.

When she finally looks up, her gaze shifts to you. Her expression softens, though there's still a touch of embarrassment in her features. "I'm so sorry for Izuku's behavior," she says, bowing slightly in polite apology. "He's been... more reckless since he joined U.A. He means well, but sometimes I think he forgets to take care of himself."

You shake your head slowly, a low hum of reassurance rumbling from your throat. "There's no need to apologize, Inko," you say, your voice smooth and calm, carrying a weight of understanding. "Izuku's passion is one of his greatest strengths. He's driven by something larger than himself—an admirable trait. But..." you glance down at the boy, who's busy wringing water from his jacket, "...a little self-preservation wouldn't hurt."

Your words draw a soft laugh from her, the sound light and genuine. "You're too kind," she says, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I don't know how he's gotten so lucky to have someone like you looking out for him."

Izuku, still wrapped in his towel, glances up at you, his freckled cheeks flushed, though whether from embarrassment or the cold, it's hard to tell. Your red eyes meet his, and you allow a rare, genuine smile to spread across your scaly lips. It's not the sly, playful grin you usually wear, but something warmer, softer—a true reflection of the affection and admiration you hold for the boy.

"It's not luck," you reply, your gaze steady and kind. "It's mutual respect."

Inko's eyes glisten with unspoken gratitude, and she steps aside to usher you in, her hand gesturing toward the cozy warmth of their home. "You've been out in the rain too. Please, come inside."

You hesitate for a moment, glancing back at the rain-soaked world behind you, but the inviting glow of the home and the gratitude in her voice make the decision for you. Ducking slightly, you step over the threshold, careful not to scrape your horns against the frame. The house welcomes you with its warmth, the scent of something savory cooking in the kitchen mixing with the lingering rain.

Izuku sneezes, breaking the moment, and you let out a low chuckle. "And that, little hero," you tease gently, "is why I told you to stay out of the rain."

His eyes widen in mock protest, his lips twitching into an embarrassed grin. "I was trying to help you!"

"By getting yourself sick?" you counter, your tone playful but kind. Inko hides a laugh behind her hand, the room filling with a warmth that has nothing to do with the hearth. Moments like these, you realize, are what make the human spirit so captivating—messy, imperfect, but undeniably full of heart.